I'd Come for You
by smileyanne
Summary: "Oh, I would look for you, and I would find you." Sharon would come for them all, if need be. Something she'd proven in bullets and hospitals and needed celebrations. Now, she needs someone to do the same for her. Otherwise, her life might be the next to be regulated to pictures on the murder board.


_a/n: So this is kind of a on the fly story. Like most of mine are, LOL! So it's not planned out yet-of course. Nothing beyond the Prologue is, so I'm just gonna let ya'll read it and get your opinions on if I should continue or not._

 _btw-it's been a while since I've written, let alone published a story._

 _GENERAL DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN MAJOR CRIMES._

* * *

 _"Yeah, if…if I ever end up in a box like this, I'd like to know that there's at least one person out there who'd go look for me." She watched him; eyeing the single box that encompassed a young life from beginning to end. And she can tell that he's thinking over how close he'd been to such a fate himself once upon a time._

 _But that was then, and this was now._

 _His life was different now._

 _Her life was different now._

 _"Oh, I would look for you, and I would find you." It's a deadly vow. An oath of allegiance and loyalty and love; and she hopes that he can realize that._

 _It's a promise._

 _One she desperately hopes she'll never have to cash in on._

* * *

She awakens with a soft, low intake of air. Something in her chest shudders with the intake but it's a muted, dull feeling. A sensation that barely penetrates the fog of her mind.

This time, unlike the first, she experiences no shock at waking up to the dark. Her senses are muted; her sense of smell hindered by the damp, moldy walls of her cage. The metallic shock of blood still coated the back of her teeth and made her stomach roll. Her fingers have long since gone numb from lack of circulation. And her eyes were rendered useless without her glasses, never mind the fact that she was confined in solid darkness. As for her hearing, she never could hear him coming.

He had successfully cut off her senses. He had caged her in and tied her up; while cutting her off from not only the outside world, but herself as well.

And in some ways that was far more terrifying than anything he could do to her.

* * *

 _Colors danced around in beautiful whirls; highlighted by the spotlights shining from above._

 _Like the attention of angels._

 _A melody was building around them; the rumblings of thunder crashing on top of each other. It beat to the rhythm of the dancers on stage as the story played on; storm clouds, who clashed and mixed with each other and never relented. But like with every storm, the crescendo built to something dark and heady until it shattered with the deadly illumination of lightning strikes and screeching violins._

 _She had seen this play dozens of times before. And every time she still watched the storm build upon the stage with the awe and reverence it demanded._

 _It would be so easy to get lost in the beautiful violence. To allow herself to drift, to lose herself and simply become a part of the hundreds of other minds that surrounded them. To simply allow herself to drift on the trembling crescendos and blinding colors that danced just for them._

 _But in this wondrous, raging storm; she was no ship set adrift. Battered by the clashing waves of the ocean, maybe…._

 _What caught her though, was not the stormy sea._

 _It was the solid presence pressed against her side. It was impossible to ignore him; to ignore the warm, solid, strength that drew her in. The heated brown-eyes that she could feel resting hot and heavy on her; signaling to her like the guiding beacon of a lighthouse. No, that wasn't right. Instead of being perched loftily above her, safely sat upon the craggy rocks of the shore; he was there in the midst of it all-with her._

 _He wasn't her lighthouse._

 _He was her anchor._

* * *

He liked to stalk her. It was a habit they had realized he possessed from simple profiles and patterns built on actions. And she was no exception.

He used the dark he kept her in to hide himself. He cloaked his twisted face and manic eyes in the shadows, and stalked her like the defenseless prey she was.

She knew he was out there, not where-but that didn't matter. That wasn't what he wanted, all he cared about was that she knew he was there. That he kept her on edge with his carefully planned actions; so he could watch her tremble with anticipation on when he would strike.

He had taken her freedom…

Her senses…

Now, he was trying to take her mind.

It was a game, one that he currently held the power that he was relishing in. He would strip her of everything that made her, down to her very sanity, before finally taking her life.

Her mind was the last sanctuary she had, and she would not relinquish it.

* * *

 _He's happy._

 _She loves that young man fiercely, whole-heartedly, with an unrestrained sort of devotion she's only ever been able to give to her children. Something she'd bestowed upon him from nearly the moment she'd met him._

 _But as much as she adores him; he has a dogged determination to be continually dour that at times can drive her mad. So to see him surrounded by the makeshift ragtag family that had claimed them both, carefree and laughing…_

 _It warmed her heart._

 _Her other children, the ones she'd raised from infancy-they're different. While their lives had never been the atypical home she'd so dearly wished to provide. There had been a stability there that her youngest son's childhood had lacked. And sometimes she aches fiercely with her desire to be able to change that history for him, to leave him unmarked by a past he hadn't deserved._

 _However, she realizes that that is sorely beyond her ability. All she can do now, if she can't change his past, is to help provide for him a better future. One where he is safe, where he allows himself to be freely happy, but most importantly-one where he is loved._

 _He still needs her._

 _Good thing she's not ready to leave._

* * *

She doesn't know how much time has passed. There are no windows to track the sun, and confined to the dark as she is-her sense of reality seems to be steadily eluding her.

For all she knows, it could've been hours or it just as easily could've been weeks.

How long had it been since she was yanked from her life? Since she was captured and confined to this suffocating cage?

Would the days tick by into weeks, only to have the world continue spinning? Would she stay locked in this dark room, playing captive to the predator until he finally decided to take her life? And then, would the weeks blur into months as her life continued on without her; while her body returned back to the earth from where she'd been carelessly tossed aside?

The idea of her life continuing on without her…it scared her.

But not as much as the idea of her becoming forgotten. Another victim they could never bring home, becoming a cruel spectrum haunting her own life.

…She had to get out of here…

* * *

 _"I'll wait. In case you need me."_

 _'I need you.'_

* * *

 _a/n: In case you didn't realize the italics refer to, in order: Rusty, Andy (the Nutcracker), Rusty, and then Andy again. Let me know what ya'll think please. And tell me if I should go beyond the prologue._


End file.
